«You will know much, you will soon grow old». I have taken offence and have told that I will become the writer, because they are the cleverest as I then thought.
The dream has been written sincerely, but there were doubts, it is good. How to correct, I did not know and in general have considered that it is necessary to create large, "important" products, instead of simple my pleasure from a meeting with a dolphin, and have burnt a blue writing-book with drawing in a fireplace.
After fifteen years the family of my friends in Petersburg invited me in a delphinarium. I was in ecstasy. Dolphins drew a water colour cheerful abstractions. And the whole sea of happiness from their voices, dexterous and beautiful synchronous jumps, cheerful warm splashes. One upset – that it is actually sadly in bondage.
After five years I appeared in Crimea. The father has punished to me to execute the dream – to bathe with a dolphin, but thus it is necessary to manage not to drown a dolphin. My father is with humour. But that dolphins after representations take place a rehabilitation course from October till February stopped me. «Let it it will be easier, but I will have other dream».
But my father is able to swim by a dolphin, then hovers in the air, then dive into the depth. And so as my dream has come true!
Valley Of Ghosts
After the eighth class I with my family was in Crimea under Alushta in the Dimerdzhi. There was excavation of an old city. And the local son of the worker-archeologist – swarty boy eleven years old – the father sent us to see off in a valley.
The boy in a sports suit and worn shoes so quickly climbed up in almost steep mountains, but my heart without restraint beat only and knocked in temples, I saw only the earth departuring underfoot and only on short respites – the pines, but I persistently followed the boy and the father.
There were many stones for a long time dressed by the sea, similar to people and animals.
At last, we have climbed up to the very top.
There were, probably, his favourite hippopotamus and camel, near whom he alone dreamt of other life, where it is not necessary to go to rural school for two kilometers, where he will live together with friends and it will not be necessary to drive these tourists.
On the way back we have met group with the woman-guide telling legends about these blocks.
And our acquaintance has regretfully asked the boy, whether he knows these stories. He answered in the affirmative, as about for a long time boring. Probably, he thought, that we ourselves will better see relations between powerful spirits of blocks. Tourists have disappointed him once again.
On The Breakage
In Crimea I with my family climbed up on Ah-Petri, where sufficed a fog of clouds by hands, looked at a cross of the lost climbers and downwards, on far hills with bewitching beauty and with the mental concealed fear before a pain and simultaneously delightful sensation of flight.
Especially strong such impression was in Chufut-Kale, sitting over breakage, where any Russian Maria, having learnt whether about the appeared erroneous or present death, whether about defeat of armies of her favourite, was dumped from a canyon in a valley.
After the eighth class admire love recklessnesses. The main thing – to be kept on the brink.
The Mermaids
In the childhood I very much loved fairy tales with mermaids – beautiful, with green hair. All asked the grandmother tell about them and with me to think up. So I would like to become the mermaid!
Parents knew that I love them, but counterfeit mermaids – on the Ukrainian sea on a holiday of the Neptune I did not recognise.
The daddy promised to dig out a pond in a garden, to catch in a network the mermaid and to bring to me. What for? It is a pity to force it, and I did not believe that it will find the present mermaid .
Once on the sea the daddy with mum decided to assure me that mermaids exist in a real life, without tails. Also have shown me the having a rest blonde, at whom each nail has been painted in different colours of varnish. I have taken offence that me have deceived once again, because, on my firm belief, mermaids are kind sad beauties.
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